


Pros and Cons

by Takada_Saiko



Series: Truth in the Lies [91]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Coming Back Together, F/M, Keen2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 07:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7675546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything that's happened, Liz wonders if they're insane to try again. There's been so much pain, but maybe that's not all that's between them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pros and Cons

**Pros and Cons**

Her pen tapped on the pad of paper quietly, her eyes staring at it but not really seeing it. She should be asleep. It was the middle of the night. Far too late to go back to the empty little apartment that she'd just signed the papers for and the waves were rocking so gently against the hull that they would have lulled anyone else into an easy sleep. Not Elizabeth Keen, though. She sat at her ex-husband's little table in his boat that he'd bought to run away in - never getting very far, she'd teased him - and stared at the paper in front of her. On it were two words, scrawled in her own handwriting with a line down between them: _Pros_ and _Cons_. She had written them down some half an hour or so before. She wasn't quite sure, but she knew it'd been a while. She'd glanced at the clock when she had crawled out of bed, carefully untangling herself from the sheets, and had slipped her shirt around her shoulders for cover. Tom had barely stirred and she'd been silently thankful for it. She didn't want to explain _what_ was keeping her awake that night.

They had to have lost their minds. It wasn't the first time that the thought had slammed to the forefront, forcing her to focus on it. She hated it. It felt too much like a decision needed to be made, and that was the last thing she wanted to do at that point. She and Tom were having fun. There were no strings, no real expectations… It was a great deal like when they'd first started dating and before things got serious. It was a _lot_ of fun, and while she knew that he would have liked it to get serious again, she also knew he was doing his best not to push the subject. And he wouldn't, not if she didn't let him. He'd made it clear she was in control of this.

Of course, that left her with the decision making, even when she didn't want to make any decisions. It wasn't like they could go on like this forever, tossing around in the bed on his boat when she wasn't needed on a case. That's what had kept her awake after he had fallen asleep, sheets wrapped around him and looking more at peace than either of them had the right to be. She'd found herself watching him, the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way his eyelids fluttered as he dreamed. She had felt her chest tighten after a moment, the protective walls thinning out just a little, and finally she'd left the bed. Now here she was, looking at all the facts.

 _Cons_.

She should start with cons. There were a lot of them. Anyone that knew them knew that. He'd lied to her. He'd manipulated her. He'd forced her into terrible decisions and driven her into painful choices. He had handed over the names of her task force to Berlin and his people, and he'd been responsible for Meera's death and Cooper's injuries, even if he hadn't inflicted them himself. He had taken her at gunpoint, she'd shot him, imprisoned him, and tortured him. He'd killed a man as she had screamed and begged him not to. She could still hear her own shouts in her nightmares some nights, Aleko holding her back as Tom snapped Eugene Ames' neck. Did he feel guilty about it? Not about getting her in trouble, but about killing an innocent man that was just trying to do his job?

He could be could cruel and cold. He'd sent a _message_ to Reddington in the form of Red's employee's skinned tattoo. Heaven knew if the guy had survived it or if the body was buried somewhere where no one would find it. He'd killed Jolene Parker and he'd killed… Hell. She didn't know how many people he'd killed. There was no telling. She could ask him, she supposed, but he might not even know. He was an operative, trained to compartmentalize and to leave behind things that would weigh him down and complicate his ability to do his job. He was a liar. He was a thief. He was everything that she should hate and he had destroyed her life, shattered her heart. He'd been the only one to make her feel safe and he'd…

Liz blinked hard, eyes focusing down on the salty droplets that were falling onto the paper that only had a few extra words on it now. _Liar_. _Manipulator_. _Murderer_. _Traitor_. She sniffed hard and glanced around, praying that she hadn't woken him. What was she doing here, anyway, if all of these things were true?

She pulled in a trembling breath, gaze swiveling back to the empty column. That wasn't all he was, a small voice seemed to remind her. As cruel as he could be to his enemies, as cold and calculating as he was when he was in the middle of an assignment, he could be kind with her.

 _Pros_.

He could be thoughtful and kind. His laugh was real. She knew that. His laugh and that small smile he gave her, one that wasn't overly showy and seemed only reserved for her. The skin around his eyes crinkled a little and his expression softened, usually when she was rattling on about something she knew he couldn't have cared anything about, but if she stopped, he told her to keep going. It didn't matter if it would have meant anything coming from someone else, when she said it it was important. He was willing to give anything for her, even his life and his freedom. He had killed the harbormaster, sure, but no one had brought him back to take the fall for it at gunpoint. She had kept him prisoner and yet he'd come back and bargained for her release. Begged for it. Then he'd continued doing everything within his power to prove to her that he really did love her. When he'd said those words on the phone she'd thought the world had stopped. For just half a moment they were all that were there. Just the two of them, connected by a signal between, crossing the space that separated them, and he was _proving_ , bit by bit, that he loved her more than anything else in the world. He was proving that it hadn't all been a lie and that so many of those important things were true.

Tom made her feel chosen. He made her feel loved and… heaven help her, he still made her feel _safe_. Liz swallowed hard. He was imperfect and he was flawed, with so many shortcomings and so many painful pieces to his past that had shaped who he was that sometimes it hurt her to find them. He was willing to talk when she asked, for the most part, but she'd tried to avoid it. Asking him about his past, about his childhood and about the reasons he had become what he was made things too real. If she was going to journey down that road…. She would have to make a choice. She didn't think she could break his heart by changing her mind later on.

"Liz?"

She looked over to the bed to find Tom sitting up and leaned forward so that his arms were locked around his bent knees, and staring at her in the dark. She pulled in a deep breath and pushed some of her loose, dyed hair behind her ear. "I was trying not to wake you."

"You didn't. Couldn't sleep?"

"No," she answered honestly, turning back to stare at the pad of paper. He was getting up. She needed to get rid of it, but simply tearing it up and throwing it away wasn't an option. It'd be like a flashing, neon sign that she didn't want him to read it. He knew her tells. If it was because he was a trained operative, because he knew her so well as the man that loved her, or some bizarre mixture of the two, she wasn't sure, but the fact remained.

"You want some time alone?" he asked softly, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of sleeping pants.

"Are you not going to be able to sleep with me sitting here like this?"

He shrugged as he tied the drawstring and padded his way to the steps that led up to the deck of the boat. "You didn't wake me up, but I won't be able to sleep anymore."

"What woke you up?" she asked, curiosity peeking her interest.

"Nightmare."

"What about?"

He paused halfway up the stairs and turned, that small smile of his tugging at the corners of his lips as he stepped back down and went to the little fridge. He bent down, pulling two beers out, and motioned for her to follow him up. She waited half a beat until he was opening the door and carefully tugged her piece of paper off the pad and crumpled it in her hand, following him.

The cool night air hit her and she regretted not putting her jeans back on. It wasn't like anyone was out at this hour, but she pulled her long shirt a little closer anyway and padded across the deck. Tom popped the beers open, handing her one, and took a seat on the wood floor. "You cold?"

"A little."

He gave her a smile that was a little hesitant, the offer clear, and Liz took a seat down with him, leaned back against his chest with his arms around her and he pulled her close. She felt the warmth spread through her and her muscles relaxed as he held onto her. She nestled back against him and sighed. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Drowning," he answered softly, the answer more honest than she had expected.

"For a man that can't swim, I'd like to point out that buying a boat might not have been one of your best life choices."

Her ex husband chuckled behind her and she felt him put his chin against the crook of her shoulder. "I've always liked the beach, just never have quite figured out the swimming part of it. I'm fine until my head goes under the water."

"You're a conflicted man, aren't you."

"Sometimes. What were you writing on?"

"Trying to work through a problem."

"Anything I can help with?"

Liz swallowed hard. He'd been so forthcoming when she'd asked her question. He'd been forthcoming with most questions lately, sometimes more than she would have preferred. She should tell him. She should be honest with him and let the chips fall where they may.

"It's okay," he murmured. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Just wanted to let you know I'm here."

She pulled in a deep breath, forcing it out through her nose immediately. "Stop."

That seemed to catch him by surprise. "Stop what?"

"That thing you do."

"I'm sorry… I don't know what you mean."

"You always say all the right things. You… tell me you're there if I need you, but because you know I don't want to talk about it you tell me you're not expecting it. You win either way."

She felt him tense behind her at the words and he sat back, arms releasing her and the warmth fled with him. "I… I'm not trying to win, Liz. Just… trying to… I'm sorry."

Liz turned and found him staring at her with a wounded expression. Guilt washed over her and she closed her eyes for a moment, pulling herself together. "No, I'm sorry. That was…I didn't mean it like that."

"How did you mean it?" he asked quietly.

She sighed and leaned back into him again, reaching around for one hand and pulling his arm around her. The other followed tentatively, but she didn't feel him relax. She took a careful sip of her beer and leaned her head back as she spoke. "You and I have been through a lot," she began, forcing the honesty into the words. He would either take it or he wouldn't. He deserved a little truth from her. "I feel like… I'm just trying to piece together what's real and what's not, if that makes sense."

"You were putting together a pro-con list, weren't you?" he laughed softly.

Liz turned in his arms, her jaw dropping a little. "Were you spying on me?"

His face broke into a full-out grin then. "Don't have to. I just know you. Okay, so let's have it. What's on it?"

She loosed a breath and opened her fist, the paper crumpled inside of it. He set his drink down on the deck and reached around her, unfolding and uncrinkling the paper as best as he could. "Yeah, I can't see that, Liz," he said at last. "My contacts are older and it's too dark. Just tell me."

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"I probably have whatever's coming to me."

She rolled her eyes a little and reached out, finding his free hand. Her fingers played with his as she spoke. "I said that you were a liar, a manipulator, a murderer, and a traitor," she said softly.

"Ouch," he breathed, but didn't move to stand. "Okay. Anything in the pro category?"

Despite the heaviness of the conversation, Liz found herself smiling. "Plenty."

"But you're only going to point out the worst, huh?"

"You're sweet, and caring, and kind when you want to be. You love deeper than I think you understand. I…." She stopped steadying herself and finally turning around so that she could look at him. "I can't promise you anything, Tom. I just… can't yet. I know we've both done a lot of damage-"

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does."

"I just mean that I don't hold anything against you. The boat and... You did the best you could with what you had. You survived, and I wouldn't trade that for anything. I'd take another round of bullets again if it meant that you were alive and okay."

She blinked at him. "Please don't."

"Well, I don't mean that I _want_ to," he answered and cracked a very small smile for her. "Just that I'd be _willing_ to if it kept you safe."

Liz shook her head and couldn't help but let a smile of her own echo his. She leaned forward, her lips against his, and she spoke with muffled words. "You're nuts."

"Nah, but I do love you."

"Tom…" she protested softly, but he deepened the kiss they had been trying to talk around.

"Don't have to say it back," he mumbled, his hands going to her hair and she set her drink aside before it ended up all over them. "Just need you to know."

Liz smiled against his lips and felt his arms wrap around her. She shifted, tilting him over so that he was lying against the deck of the boat with her on top of him, her hands against the side of his face and his in her hair. "I don't want to hurt you," she said softly, the honesty of the words causing an ache to set in deep.

"I don't want to hurt you either," he answered and she found him staring up at her, "but I do want to to prove to you how much I love you. Will you let me try?"

She tried for a smile. "Yeah," she relented at last and leaned down to kiss him, a smirk playing on her lips as she pulled almost immediately back up. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"Help me move some boxes in tomorrow?"

Her ex husband grinned like she'd just offered him the world. "Done."

* * *

 

Notes: I should have spent yesterday evening editing down a future-fic I'm working on in which Liz is caught up in a hostage situation and Tom convinces Scottie that it's in Grey Matter's best interest to send he and Nez in to rescue them.... but then this happened. Oops?

I'll try to have that other fic up this afternoon if I can find a title for it. Until then, have some Keen2 fluff :)

 


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